Shadow of Legends

by Stephen A. Bly

  Dacee June burst through the door, trailed by Amber, Quintin, and Fern. “Sorry to interrupt. Todd, Carty came up to the house and announced that Columbia’s having her baby. Mrs. O’Neill went back with him and I said I’d look for Dr. Spencer.”

  “Did you find him?” Rebekah asked.

  “He’s sick in bed. Everyone who ate at the Oyster Bay lunch counter turned up vomiting sick today. What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll go right over. You take the children home.” Then Todd turned to Gordon. “Doctor, your services are needed.”

  “I am not practicing medicine in the Black Hills.”

  “To the relief of everyone in this room.” Todd drew his gun. “However, today, you are going to assist a birth.”

  “You are forcing me at gunpoint to deliver a baby?”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes, Gordon. It’s Deadwood. Things are done different here. Columbia has had some complications and we are going to need professional assistance.”

  “It will cost you a pretty penny.”

  “That sounds like a fair price,” Abigail snapped.

  “That was hyperbole. I charge at least twenty-five dollars to deliver a baby.”

  “I changed my mind,” Abigail told Dover. “I’d like to have twenty-five dollars when I sign that quitclaim.”

  “This is outrageous,” the doctor fumed as he paced the room. “What are those children doing staring at me? Make them quit staring at me!”

  “I’ll tell you what is outrageous.” Abigail choked the tears back. “That beautiful little girl in the violet dress is your daughter, and you had absolutely no idea who she was.”

  If the entire earth did not rotate around the happenings at Quiet Jim’s house in the Ingleside district of Deadwood, Dakota Territory, it was unknown to those inside. For two hours and thirty-six minutes no one in the house thought about revengeful hold-up men, impending business failure, restlessness, business executives, gold shipments, or who reigned as Raspberry Festival queen.

  They didn’t even think of the father, gun shot and paralyzed from the waist down.

  But they did think of the mother.

  Through pain, agony, and panic, James Jr. was brought into the world.

  Mrs. O’Neill took care of baby Sarah.

  Todd sat by the bedside . . . of Quiet Jim.

  Rebekah and Abigail worked alongside Dr. Gordon.

  Two minutes after he arrived, the doctor pulled off his coat, tossed his tie aside, rolled up his sleeves, and went to work. He spoke hardly a word. And for two hours Rebekah forgot about how much she despised him.

  Her dark-blue dress was soaked with sweat. Her light-brown hair dangled from its combs. She waltzed into the room where Quiet Jim lay, Todd standing by his side.

  “Well, Daddy, I thought you might like to see young Jimmy!” She swung the blanket-wrapped bundle around and laid him on the bed next to the smiling father. “Isn’t that round red face about the cutest baby you ever saw? Todd, look at this little boy,” she sighed. “I believe he already looks like his daddy, don’t you?”

  Quiet Jim stared at the baby.

  Todd reached down and laid his hand alongside the infant’s head. Then he looked up at Rebekah. There’s mama in your eyes, Rebekah Fortune. I do believe we will have children soon, no matter where we live. “Yep, he looks like his daddy. He’s a treasure, that’s for sure. Do we call him Quiet Jimmy?”

  The baby whimpered and Rebekah snatched him up. “We can definitely call him Jimmy, but it remains to be seen whether he’s quiet. So far, he’s more like Uncle Yapper Jim.” Rebekah glanced at Todd, who seemed mesmerized by the baby. I see your silly grin, Todd Fortune. I know what’s in your mind. I’m thinking the same thing. I want one of these, Lord. Even after watching Columbia’s agony, I want one of these and I want one right away. On second thought, perhaps in about eight and a half months would be fine.

  “How’s Columbia?” Quiet Jim asked.

  “Tired. And she’s bleeding a little,” Rebekah reported.

  “I’d like to see her.”

  “I think she’s sleeping now. The doctor said the bleeding should cease in an hour or so. He also said this should be the last child for her. Of course, she scoffed at the idea,” Rebekah reported.

  Quiet Jim looked down at his listless legs. “Two bullets might have answered that matter already.” He turned to Todd. “I need to go see Columbia.”

  “You’ll be getting better,” Todd encouraged. “By next fall you’ll be out huntin’ with those old men and making up more stories about the Black Hills.”

  Quiet Jim pushed himself up on his elbows. “I don’t care if you carry me, drag me, or throw me on the floor and let me crawl, but I want to see my Columbia. And I want to see her now.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The dual rows of tiny pearl buttons ran straight as a plumb line up Rebekah’s teal green dress as she raised up in reaction to Todd’s news. “She just got off the stagecoach and announced that she was looking for a job as housekeeper and nanny?”

  Todd hung his suit coat on a peg and whisked it down with a hickory handled brush. “Something like that.”

  “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

  “Quiet Jim thinks it’s Providence.”

  “Does she have any references?” Rebekah held the folded tea towel in front of her.

  The aroma of strong coffee drew him to the pot on the cookstove. “Yes, but all her papers are from Boston, or the old country.”

  Rebekah refolded the clean towel. “Ireland?”

  “Katie O’Callum. How much more Irish do you want?” Todd poured the boiling coffee into a black ceramic mug with gold foil rim.

  “It sounds too Irish.” She started to refold the towel again, but checked herself and tossed it down.

  The coffee scalded the tip of Todd’s tongue. He gulped it down and it burned his throat as well. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Look, a woman comes to Deadwood, marches into the lumber mill . . . not the hotel, mind you, but a lumber mill that happens to be owned by Quiet Jim . . . and offers her services as a housekeeper and nanny. And you encouraged them to hire her?”

  Todd rubbed his squinting blue eyes. “She seems like a gift from God. It’s hard to find domestic workers in a boomtown. Look how long you’ve been looking. She’s exactly what they need and you know it.”

  “And I say things don’t happen that smoothly, even when the Lord’s involved.” Rebekah poured her coffee into a thin china cup with purple violets painted on the side.

  “I checked over there this morning, and the report is that Katie is doing wonderful.” Todd took another gulp and winced.

  Rebekah diluted her coffee with several tablespoons of clean water. “And I say there is potential for real trouble. We’ll stop by and check it out after church.”

  “No, we won’t.” Todd fastened the top button on his white shirt.

  Rebekah felt her neck stiffen. “What do you mean, we won’t?”

  “We have a trip to take, remember?” He raised his light-brown eyebrows.

  “A trip?” Her words came out like a spear, aptly thrown.

  “To Rapid City.” He attempted to knot his short black tie. “I promised you a trip to Rapid City on Sunday, and we’re going.”

  Rebekah’s white lace cuffs framed her thin waving hands. “But that was . . . before all this and . . .”

  He leaned over and stuck out his neck. “You still want to go, don’t you?”

  She fidgeted with his tie. “Well, yes, but we can’t go off now. What about those men on the prowl?”

  Todd stepped back. “They are either halfway to Texas, with Seth Bullock on their tail, or they will circle back to town, still looking for Daddy Brazos. It wouldn’t hurt for us
to be gone. We’ll spend the night in Rapid City. We can come home tomorrow after we’ve looked around.”

  Rebekah prowled the kitchen looking for anything out of place. “Todd Fortune, I can’t believe you’d desert your little sister to such uncertainty. There is no way I’m going off and leave Dacee June by herself.”

  A sly Fortune grin crept over his face. “Lil’ Sis is coming with us.”

  “She is? Well, then this won’t exactly be a quiet little respite.” She spun her wedding ring around on her finger.

  “Oh, that’s not all . . .” Todd refused to look her in the eyes. “Abigail, her mother, and Amber wanted to see Rapid City, so I invited them along.”

  “You did? What kind of carriage did you rent?”

  “Mert Hart’s three-seater.”

  “For the six of us?”

  “Actually, there’s eight. But Carty’s bringing his new gelding and is going to be the outrider. I told him he could be the scout.”

  “You said eight?”

  “Thelma Speaker is coming along too.”

  “You’re kidding me!” Rebekah spun around so quickly that her dress flagged away from her. “This whole thing is a joke, right?”

  “No. Thelma’s been cooped up here in the gulch ever since Louise and Grass Edwards went to California. She offered to bring a box dinner for all of us. We’ll leave straight from church.”

  A fire of curiosity danced in her eyes. “Abigail’s going to church?”

  “She said she wasn’t joking about what she told Dr. Gordon about her faith. She mentioned that you were going to teach her everything.”

  “I can . . . tell her what I know.”

  “Sounds like a spiritual opportunity.”

  “You really think it’s safe to travel?” she pressed.

  “We can’t let this bunch tell us how to live our lives. If we’re hiding in the house every day, they’ve won already. We’re going to Rapid City. I will live wisely, but I will not live in fear,” he declared. “At some point we have to trust the Lord.”

  “But this trip is crazy. You don’t even want to go to Rapid City,” she protested.

  “I do now.”

  “Where will we spend the night?”

  “If there are no rooms, we’ll camp out,” he said.

  “In the rain? Those clouds look ready to drop.”

  “It will be an adventure.”

  “Todd Fortune, this sounds like something Daddy Brazos would do . . . not his sensible, clear-thinking, oldest son.”

  “Rebekah Jacobson Fortune, I promised you a trip to Rapid City, and you’re going to get it . . . whether you want it or not!”

  “I had envisioned something a little . . . less hectic. I’ll need to pack.”

  “We can just brush out what we’re wearing and head back tomorrow,” he suggested.

  “Todd Fortune, I said I’ll need to pack!”

  Mert Hart’s three-seat surrey had a top that was meant to keep the sun off the passengers. But halfway to Sturgis, it began to sprinkle. The leather top took on the role of rain barrier as well. Since there were no sides to the big carriage, those who sat windward soon got wet. Todd drove the rig, Rebekah beside him. In the middle seat were Thelma Speaker and Dacee June, right behind her brother. In the third seat were Mrs. O’Neill and Amber and Abigail Gordon.

  Carty Toluca, his yellow oil cloth duster flapping in the storm, rode his bay gelding ahead of the rig. With Winchester ’73 carbine across his lap, he gave his best impression of a frontier scout but looked more like a late entry in the kids Fourth of July parade.

  “This sure is fun, Todd Fortune!” Dacee called out from the seat straight behind him. “I’m soaked!”

  “Not much more water than a Presbyterian baptism,” he mumbled. “Besides, it’s a warm rain.”

  “It’s not all that warm.” Rebekah added as she tugged a gray blanket with black stripe across her lap.

  “I’m hungry,” Amber piped up from the back seat.

  “We can eat anytime,” Thelma Speaker announced. “The food is all cooked.”

  The cloud cover suppressed the noise of the carriage. The slightly muddy road took the clomp out of the horse’s hooves. It was not wet enough yet for the gumbo to pack the iron rims of the wheels. Each voice sounded crisp, clear.

  “I thought we were going to picnic?” Dacee June said.

  “We aren’t stopping in the rain,” Todd insisted.

  “Perhaps we could just snack as we drive along?” Abigail suggested.

  “There’s an old deserted tollhouse at the top of Boulder Canyon. I thought we could pull off the road and drive up there,” Todd announced.

  “It doesn’t have a roof on it,” Dacee June replied.

  Todd wiped rainwater off his forehead. “You’re thinking about the one at Bullfrog Meadows.”

  “I ought to know the difference between Bullfrog Meadows and Boulder Canyon Tollhouse,” Dacee June fussed.

  “Carty!” Todd shouted to the young man on the wet bay horse. “Ride on up and see if we can take dinner at the old tollhouse.”

  “It doesn’t have a roof on it!” Dacee June repeated.

  By the time Carty came back, Todd’s wool trousers were damp. Most of the rest of the passengers had blankets up to their necks. It was a steady, light drizzle that seemed to seep into the dusty roadway but puddled up on faces and laps. Todd wiped the moisture off his goatee and eyebrows. “What did you find out?”

  “It has a roof . . .”

  “It does?” Dacee June sputtered. “But . . . but . . . well, maybe I was thinking of Bullfrog Meadow.”

  “It has a roof, smoke in the stack, and three ponies saddled outside,” Carty announced.

  “What are we going to do?” Rebekah asked.

  “How about Redbud Cave?” Dacee June suggested.

  The lead line to the team of horses was starting to soak up water from Todd’s hand. “It’s way off the road.”

  “We’re too wet to care,” Rebekah reminded him.

  “I think I’m going to starve to death,” Amber murmured.

  “Could we build a fire at that cave?” Abigail asked. “I need to dry out my dress a bit.”

  Todd kept the rig moving at a walk. “That means it’ll be almost dark when we get to Rapid City.”

  “Why don’t you send Carty to the cave to check it out before we drive too far off the main road?” Rebekah suggested.

  Carty Toluca pushed back his soggy, drooping hat. “I . . . eh . . . don’t really know where it is.”

  “Well, I do,” Dacee June inserted. “You ride in the carriage, and I’ll take your pony . . .”

  Carty sat straight up in the saddle. “Oh no you don’t. I ain’t ridin’ in the wagon with the women. I’m the scout on this here trip.”

  Dacee June straightened her drooping straw hat. “Well, you’re not much of a scout. You don’t even know where to find Redbud Cave.”

  “Dacee June, why don’t you ride with Carty and check it out for us?” Todd suggested.

  “You mean ride double?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not riding double with Carty Toluca.”

  “Yeah, this horse is hot-blooded. He might buck a little too much for the inexperienced rider,” Carty asserted.

  “Too hot for me? I can outride you any day, Carty Toluca. And everyone in this surrey knows it. Now, ride over here so I can climb aboard. Scoot back; I get the saddle.”

  “You get the saddle? This horse is soaking wet. I’ve been keepin’ the saddle dry myself.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I cain’t believe this. Are you sure this is the way Kit Carson got his start?”

  “Carson, Cody, even Stuart Brannon had
to scout doubled up with beautiful women,” Todd teased.

  “Beautiful women?” Carty grumbled.

  Dacee June stuck out her tongue and climbed aboard the bay horse from her position on the wagon. She straddled the saddle horn, both legs hanging down the off side.

  They crested a muddy hill before Todd started up the carriage.

  “Why does Dacee June treat Carty so pitiful?” Abigail called out from the backseat.

  Todd leaned back. “Overexposure, I reckon. They’ve known each other too long. They just built a habit of tormenting one another.”

  “That will be quite a ride,” Rebekah remarked.

  The warm June rain picked up some. The blankets got heavier. Rebekah stared off at the low-hanging clouds. This is crazy, Todd Fortune. I can’t believe we’re riding off into a summer squall. We should just turn around right now. You won’t, of course. You’re a Fortune. Fortune men are never wrong, so they can never quit and go home. It’s your virtue and your vice. If a Fortune says we’re going to have a picnic, were going to have a picnic . . . no matter what storm, tornado, or riled Sioux nation gets in our way.

  Todd glanced to the middle seat. “Mrs. Speaker, are you all right?”

  “Oh, my yes. This is a nice diversion. It reminds me of my first trip to Dakota when Dacee June, Jamie Sue, Louise, and I rode off across the prairie with a blackguard and a blizzard.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a life of adventure,” Mrs. O’Neill added. “All I do is sit around my boring little house and play hearts. Why, being tied up by those men the other night was the most exciting time of my life. Does that sort of thing happen often?”

  “I should hope not!” Thelma chuckled. “But sometimes life in the gulch gets so turned in on itself we hardly remember what it’s like to be anywhere else. That’s when we need to get out and about. Louise and I used to take a lot of trips. That was before she married Mr. Edwards.” Thelma turned to the ladies in the backseat. “My sister married Professor Edwards. He’s lecturing in California this month on Rocky Mountain weeds.”